by Lane Hart
“Reece?” Cynthia repeats, more sternly, when I open the passenger door for her.
“Get in. We’re in a hurry here,” I grumble. She does so without further comment.
We ride for almost half an hour just listening to the radio before she speaks again. “All I could see when I came out of the bathroom was a bunch of leather cuts, but I’m guessing from your bleeding lip that you were in the middle of it.”
“Yeah.”
“Well? Who were you fighting with?” she asks.
“Miles.”
“Miles?” she gasps. “But why? What happened?”
When I don’t offer any explanation, she eventually asks, “Was it about me?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Scoffing, she says, “Ah, yeah, it does matter. Something set you off enough to throw punches at your own brother, or him at you, so please just tell me the truth.”
“Fine,” I huff. Keeping my eyes on the dark road, I tell her why it started. “He wanted you.”
“I-I don’t understand. What do you mean he wanted me?” she asks. After I continue to remain silent on the subject she says, “Why would that be grounds for blows?”
“I didn’t hit him because he wanted you,” I admit.
“Then why, Reece?”
“I hit him because…you might want him too. I wasn’t sure if you would turn him down if he asked.”
“What?” she huffs. “That’s ridiculous! I told you I was done being passed around the club. And have you forgotten that earlier tonight I made you a promise that I wouldn’t see anyone else?”
“You’re missing the point,” I grumble. “You can still want someone else no matter what fucking promise you made to me.”
“Reece, I don’t want Miles,” she says. “To be honest, he’s a little scary.”
“But you’ve been with him before,” I point out.
“Yes. And I’m assuming that you’re not a virgin, that you’ve been with other women too,” she responds sternly.
“I’ve been with five women in my lifetime, and I’ve seen you with at least five of my brothers more times than I care to add up!”
“I won’t apologize for my past or let you make me feel ashamed of it!” she replies. “And if you actually want to try to be with me, then you can’t go around hitting men I’ve been with or-or men you think that I want!” she yells. “Do you have any idea what that scene you caused tonight reminded me of? It reminded me of him, when I was repeatedly on the receiving end of a man’s fist, so fuck you very much for that.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her honestly. I didn’t even think about how me getting into a fight could bring up shitty memories for her.
“Good, because you should be sorry!”
“I am.”
“You owe Miles an apology too,” she says.
A grunt is the only response I have to that.
“I don’t want Miles or anyone else in the club. Was there a time when I thought I could have a future with Abe or Dalton? Yes, but it was a stupid, naïve fantasy based on nothing but spending a few nights in their beds. Now I know that what’s really important can’t be found under any sheets.”
“Okay,” I agree, believing what she’s saying. “I won’t hit anyone else who has seen you naked just because I haven’t.”
“That’s a great plan,” she agrees. “Because if you hit anyone else because of me, you never will see me naked.”
“Fair enough, sunshine,” I say when I pull up in the parking lot of her complex and shift into park.
“Sunshine?” she repeats.
Facing her now that we’ve stopped, her red hair and porcelain skin glow even in the darkness. “Yeah, sunshine because you burn fiery bright and beautiful even at night. And you don’t waste any time scalding a man to put him in his place.”
“Then I guess I should take that as a compliment,” she replies with a small smile.
“You should,” I agree before I get out and go around to open her door for her. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your door, and then I have to get back the clubhouse. Your fury is nothing compared to Torin’s.”
“I hope he doesn’t go easy on you,” she responds.
“He won’t,” I assure her when she takes my hand and we walk up the stairs to her floor.
Cynthia’s face falls as we reach her door and then she says, “Reece, if you’ve changed your mind about us, I’ll understand.”
My response to that is to cup the side of her face to kiss her so long and hard that when I pull away, she’s panting. Hell, we both are.
“I’m not changing my mind,” I tell her as I swipe my thumb over her damp bottom lip. “Tonight was just a minor road bump. I’m certain that being with you is what I want, so I’ll make sure I don’t do anything else to fuck up my chance.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” she says, and I know that she means it. She’s giving me a pass for tonight, but I don’t think she’ll give me any more if I use my fists again. Physical violence is a hard limit for her.
“Goodnight,” I tell her as I lower my hand from her face and back away. “See you tomorrow at the clubhouse?”
“Yes, as long as it’s still standing after Hurricane Torin blows through,” she responds with a grin. “Goodnight, Reece.”
I wait until she turns the key in the lock and is safely inside before I make my way down the stairs and drive back to the clubhouse.
…
Miles and Torin are already in the chapel waiting when I walk in and shut the door behind me.
Glaring at me, Torin says, “Take off your cut.”
“What?” I ask in disbelief, looking from him to Miles, who has an ice pack pressed to his disfigured face. He’s slouched over, which is why it takes me a moment to notice he’s only wearing his black Henley tee and jeans. He doesn’t have on his cut, which is sacrilegious in the chapel. I look back to Torin and see that he has Mile’s cut thrown over one of his arms.
“Take off your fucking cut,” Torin growls again in warning. I slip my arms out of the leather even though it pains me to remove it from my body. “Tonight, you two didn’t act like brothers,” he says. “You acted like fucking idiots! Fighting in public, in front of old ladies and another charter is unacceptable.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I tell him before I toss my cut in his direction. He grabs it and folds it over Miles’.
“Your apology isn’t enough,” Torin responds. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but you’re gonna stay in this room until you settle your shit. Then, you’re gonna both come up with a punishment that you deem appropriate to make amends to the club for your disrespectful behavior while wearing our patch,” he says, glaring between the two of us. “Fuck! I feel like I’m talking to two goddamn kids, not grown men who have been part of this club longer than I have! Fix your shit and keep your asses in this room until I come back in the morning.” On the way out, our president murmurs something about how he should be taking his wife to bed, not dealing with our childish bullshit, before he leaves, slamming the door behind him.
“This is all your fault,” Miles grumbles when he flops down into his chair. He throws the ice pack down on the table, sending it sliding over towards me on the opposite side.
“Yeah,” I agree, pulling out my chair and taking a seat. “I should’ve just told you that Cynthia’s finished with the club.”
A single dark eyebrow raised, he says, “If she’s fucking you, then she’s not finished.”
“She’s not fucking me,” I huff. “At least not yet.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asks when he leans back in his chair and tucks his thumbs behind his big Savage Kings belt buckle. “That girl loves to fuck. In fact, I’m pretty sure the only thing she likes more than fucking is sucking cock.”
Jumping to my feet, I plant both of my palms on the table to get in his face. “Watch your fucking mouth,” I warn him.
Holding up his hands in a placating gestu
re in front of his face, he says, “I’m speaking nothing but the truth, brother. So what’s your goddamn problem?”
“My problem is that I don’t need you throwing the shit you’ve done with her in my face.”
Miles smirks. “You’re jealous.”
I sit back down in my chair, refusing to respond to that statement.
“Cynthia’s a gifted deep throater. Really, she is. Hard to find that kind of talent outside of porn stars,” he says, making my fists clench on either side of my chair’s armrest so hard the wood creaks. “Did she tell you about the time I licked her pussy for an hour without letting her come? You probably heard her screaming. She was crying and begging me to get her off, but I wouldn’t, not until I completely broke her. That’s when I finally sucked on her clit and god, she shook so hard I thought she was having a seizure. I went from being her tormentor to her fucking salvation. She rode me like a little sex fiend right after, nearly broke my cock.”
I’m not sure how it all happened. One second, I’m sitting there listening to the filth about Cynthia coming out of his mouth and the next I’m looking at the underside of the table. With one powerful surge, I flipped our sacred table onto its side, sending Miles scuttling backwards in his chair. Then I’m over top of it, slamming my fists into his face over and over again while dodging his blows.
This exchange goes on for how long I’m not sure, until the fucker starts laughing. He cackles like a maniac, rolling around on the floor with me on top of him like he just heard the funniest joke of his life, while his forearms are still trying to protect his face from my punches
“What the fuck…are you…laughing at?” I ask him through pants.
“You,” he says. “Just admit it…you’re pussy whipped…by pussy…you’ve never had.”
Pushing off of him, I sit with my back and head against the wall, listening to his laughter while catching my breath and assessing the damage to my face. I told Cynthia I wouldn’t fight anyone else, so technically I didn’t break my promise. I can smack Miles around all I want.
“Enough!” I shout at him when his laughter seems to go on forever.
“Just admit it, you stubborn son of a bitch,” Miles says as he pushes himself up on his elbows to look at me. “Admit it and I won’t say another word about her.”
“I’m not pussy whipped,” I huff.
“Have you ever seen a red muff?” he asks. “It’s the hottest fucking thing –”
“I care about her, okay? Now shut the fuck up!”
“Finally,” he says before he lays his head back down on the floor with his arms folded underneath. “That’s all you had to do, man. Never in all my years have I seen you give two shits about a woman. You’d rather hit me at the bar than just say that she’s your old lady?”
“She’s not my old lady,” I mutter.
“If you’re not letting anyone else touch her, then she’s your woman. Own it, brother. Make your claim. Or were you planning to just fight everyone who looks at her sideways?”
“You’re an asshole,” I tell him.
“Cynthia’s a good one,” he responds. “The herd is thinning with all the coupling going on in the ranks. Now I’m shit out of luck. The young ones are all scared of me and the older ones are leaving.”
“You expect me to cry you a river?” I ask.
“I expect you to not be a dick and fuck this up with her.”
“I don’t even know what the hell this is yet,” I tell him honestly. “We’re…dating.”
“Dating?” he scoffs. “What are you, sixteen?”
“Thanks to my brothers like you, she needs me to prove that I’m after more than a few fucks,” I explain.
“And you need her to prove to you that she’s really done with being shared,” he adds. “I’m more than willing to help you test that theory, see if I can convince her to cave.”
“Fuck off,” I tell him.
“What’s your deal with women anyway?” he asks. “I thought you only had love for your computers.”
“Women are untrustworthy,” I reply.
“Are they really?” he asks. “I’ve only ever needed to trust them to get naked when I tell them to.”
“Good luck with that,” I mutter.
“Tell me about it. Like I said, it’s slim pickings lately. Women are so sensitive. I used to pull out my cock anytime, anywhere and they hit their knees. Now, if I look at their tits for too long, I’m a dirty bastard.”
“You are a dirty bastard,” I tell him.
“Well, yeah, but that used to be part of my charm,” he jokes. “Hard to find girls who still appreciate that fine personality trait.”
“Just stay away from mine,” I grumble before I even realize what I’ve just said, that I do already consider Cynthia my girl.
“Duly noted,” Miles responds with a chuckle. “Now that we’ve settled that shit, what are we gonna offer Torin and the club for our payback for fighting at the bar? I want my goddamn cut back.”
“No clue,” I say. “Any ideas?”
“Yeah, maybe. But you’re probably not gonna like it,” he says when he sits up and grins at me. The blood leaking from his face makes his smile so sinister I almost raise my fist to him.
“That’s the whole point of punishment, right?” I ask, even though I’m dreading it.
“True. But this could be well worth the effort,” Miles tells me. “And who knows, once we’re done, you may even want to share it with your girl.”
Chapter Thirteen
Cynthia
The familiar smell of leather and motor oil warms me as I walk into the Savage Asylum after leaving work and going by my apartment for a quick shower and change of clothes, putting on jeans and a purple sweater with my black knee-high boots.
“Hello there, sugar. Long time no see,” Turtle says from where he’s working behind the bar.
“Hey, Bill,” I reply, using his real name instead of the nickname everyone calls him.
“What can I get you?” he asks.
“Nothing to drink tonight,” I respond. “I’m here to see Reece.”
“Sorry, sugar,” he says, tilting the left side of his head toward me. “Say that again. I think these old ears misheard you.”
“I’m here to see Reece!” I say, louder this time.
“My hearing is shot all to hell,” he grumbles. “Let me find the prospect so he can translate.”
“Reece!” I say again. “The wizard behind the curtain in the basement?”
“Now I’m a wizard, huh?” the man in question asks as he steps through the thick door and into the bar, making me flush with embarrassment.
“You know what I meant,” I tell him when I turn to face him. Tonight, he’s wearing worn work boots, jeans, and a black hoodie. I wince when I see the remnants of last night’s fight in his swollen lip and cheekbone. “You handle things behind the scenes and know everything about everyone, but no one gets to know you.”
Scowling even harder than usual, he says, “There’s nothing to know.”
“I find that hard to believe,” I reply. “Like, where did you learn all of your snooping techniques?”
“Army,” he answers.
“That’s it? That’s all I get? The Army?”
“Yep.”
“When were you in the Army?” I ask.
“A long time ago.”
“Oh, well, that’s specific,” I huff sarcastically.
“Come on,” he says, punching in the code and holding open the basement door for me. “Do you want to see this proof I promised you or stand around up here all night?” he asks while glancing down at the watch on his wrist. “I have plans for our second date; but if we don’t leave here in fifteen minutes, we’ll miss it.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” I say with a mock salute. “We better get moving.”
I jog down the stairs in front of him and then march into his apartment since the door is open, eager to see this proof that he’s wanted me since the first day we met.
“Here,” Reece says when he goes over and hits a few keys on a keyboard.
A fuzzy black and white video appears on the closest computer screen. It takes me a minute to recognize my car, and then there I am climbing out with my sunglasses over my eyes, heading to the bar door where I’m met by Reece. I’ve been to the clubhouse dozens of times, but this is definitely the first time I walked through the door.
“Why?” I ask when I turn to face Reece again, but the word is barely more than a croak. Clearing my throat, I try again. “Why would you keep this for over three years?”
“I honestly don’t know,” he answers while staring at the video and rubbing his fingers over his jaw. I notice for the first time that his face is scruffy, when usually he’s clean shaven. “Maybe because it was the only time you showed up here looking for me.”
“Wow,” I mutter. “I’m not sure what to say to that,” I reply honestly. “I’m here for you now…”
Taking a step closer to him, I reach to rub my fingertips over his scratchy jaw and then press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for showing me this and for keeping it.”
“Yeah, well, we better go,” he says when he moves away from me to grab his keys sitting on the desk.
“I like the beard,” I tell him as I follow him out the door. “Was that intentional?”
“No, I didn’t have time to shave,” he says, leading me up the steps.
“Tough night?” I ask, wondering how things went with Torin once he got home.
“Long one,” he mutters as we make our way through the bar and out to the parking lot. “It’s warm today, so are you okay if we take my bike? We won’t be going far or staying out too late. As long as you have a coat, it should be fine.”
“Yeah, the bike is great,” I tell him with a smile. “I wasn’t even sure you owned one since you rarely leave.”
“Of course I have one,” he grumbles. “My Harley is top of the line with all the upgrades.”
“I’m not surprised,” I reply. “Let me grab my coat from my car and we can go.”
